No Door
by JunoMagic
Summary: Written for a prompt at the LiveJournal Community Portus Envy: Hermione and Severus locked up – but not in Azkaban. A collection of five drabbles. This will eventually tie in with The Book of the Dead.


**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of **Joanne K. Rowling**. Any characters, settings, places from the Harry Potter books and movies used in this work are the property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers. Original characters, settings and concepts belong to the author of this work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the private enjoyment of readers at FanFictionNet, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

All characters, places and events in this story are either the products of the relevant author's imagination or they are used entirely fictiously.

**oooOooo**

This was written in response to the following prompt by Closetravenclaw for the LiveJournal community Portus Envy:

_How about if SS/HG are locked up or trapped together somewhere (but not Azkaban)._

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**oooOooo**

**No Door**

Awkwardly, Severus Snape scrambled to his feet and surveyed his prison. A damp, dank dungeon. The strongest Anti-Apparition wards he'd ever encountered outside of Hogwarts.

He rubbed his throbbing temples. Something about the signature of the spells wrapped around the cell was familiar. But he couldn't pinpoint what it was. He shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering dizziness.

Quickly, he took inventory of the furnishings. A Charmed chamber-pot. Two Charmed plates and two Charmed goblets. Two mattresses with two blankets. No pillows. No windows. No surprise there. Dungeons and prisons rarely came with a view.

_… no door. _

**oooOooo**

His stomach churned. His hands flew to his sleeves and the wrist-sheathes of his wands. His queasiness increased. That his captors discounted so easily what he could do with both of his wands was not a good sign.

Hoping against hope that the door was only Disillusioned or hidden by Glamour, he crossed to the nearest wall. He circled the cell, his hands sliding over the stones.

One. Two. Three. Four. _Damn. _

He thought his head would burst. Not just Anti-Apparition spells. Various other curses, hexes and jinxes, all of them aimed at keeping powerful prisoners contained.

_And no door._

**oooOooo**

Severus discovered easily enough where the door _had_ been. A rectangle of smoother stones. Fresh mortar. But it had settled well. Suddenly, a moan made him hurry to the centre of the cell. He knelt down and drew Hermione into his arms. His wife groaned, shuddered, struggled – then her eyes flew open.

"Severus! What happened? Where are we?" She swivelled her head. Her shocked gaze slid over stones. With wide eyes, she stared into shadowy corners.

He felt the exact moment she noticed. Hermione tensed. Icy fingers curled into fists. Her breath turned into a gasp.

_"There is no door." _  
**  
**

**oooOooo**

"Merlin, Severus! What are we going to do?"

He could hear her impending panic in each breathy syllable. He tightened his hold on her, pulling her close.

"We keep calm. We hope that someone will find us. We try to break the spells in the walls. We try to break the walls. I suggest we start three feet from the left-hand corner in the opposite wall. The spells infused in the new stones are the strongest. But if I am not mistaken, the magic will be weakest right next to –"

Hermione shivered. _"– where the door used to be." _

**oooOooo**

They lay in the darkness, facing each other. He was too weary to cast the weakest Lumos spell. She was stroking him, his nose, chin, throat – trailing the prominent curves of his ribs, downwards.

Her fingers were rough, hard with calluses, serrated where her nails had broken scraping away at the mortar.

The spell that kept one of the plates refilling with food had broken. Now there was not enough food for two. Much less for three. Tenderly his fingers travelled to her hollowed stomach.

Closing his eyes, Severus dreamt.

Of a little girl with black curls.  
_And a door._

**  
oooOooo**

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**A/N: **This will eventually tie in with "The Book of the Dead".

_Please feel free to leave a comment! I'm always interested what made you smile, frown, laugh or cry, wonder or wince ... and I don't mind if you let me know which typo slipped through my proofreading._


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